New verse by Wellington poet Mary Macpherson
When it became warmer, we mooned over lost flowers
Iit again amongst hunks of grass. We found marbles
behind the dresser and remembered palaces
in distant swirls of colour. Shops meant something too.
We love the fierce desire for the things and the beautiful
imaginary self. Almost overnight, the sad-faced dairy
became a darkened window with a spot-lit bath,
then leapt to its future as a dog grooming establishment.
She thought of summers when buying three pairs of togs
was as normal as sand. I loved the idea of silver gates
guarding our wishes. They were forever before us –
lights down a suburban street, the dark flesh of leaves,
petals like dancers in a sodium night.
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